


The Fog Phantom - A Downton Mystery Story

by inkworldtraveler



Category: Castle (TV 2009), Downton Abbey, The Three Investigators | Die drei ??? - Various Authors
Genre: 1910s, Alternate Universe - 1910s, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22938529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkworldtraveler/pseuds/inkworldtraveler
Summary: While the Crawley family has travelled to Scotland over the Christmas holidays, a few of their servants remain at Downton Abbey as an unusually violent blizzard breaks out. When a group of strangers appears to seek refuge from the storm, a sinister story takes its course…
Relationships: Thomas Barrow & Original Female Character(s), Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone 👋 
> 
> Quick disclaimer: 
> 
> This is based off of an episode of the detective audiobook series "Die drei Fragezeichen" which I'm a huge fan of. 
> 
> It's an advantage if you're at least a little bit familiar with Downton Abbey for a better understanding of who everyone is.
> 
> The characters are not mine except for my one OC.
> 
> Enjoy 🤗

**_1912, Yorkshire, England_ **

"Oh dear, I haven't seen this much snow in years," Mrs Hughes said with a sorrowful glance out of the window of the drawing-room. For almost a day now, Downton Abbey had been wrapped up in an impenetrable swirl of white. It didn't look as if the flurry of snow was going to abate anytime soon and Mrs Hughes was starting to feel quite uneasy. Lord Grantham and his family had set off to visit their relatives in Scotland but had planned to return timely before Christmas Eve to celebrate at home, as every year.  
"Will they make their way home in time?" Anna asked, concern on her face, as she absentmindedly dusted the mantelpiece. She gave Mrs Hughes a worried look and nervously twisted a loose strand of blonde hair back under her cap as she returned to work.

"Do you think somethin's happened to them? Somethin' bad?" Daisy, the kitchen maid, asked anxiously. She was a somewhat plain girl of eighteen and terribly distraught at this very moment.  
"Daisy, where do you always get all these ideas from?" Mrs Patmore sighed, wiping her hands on her apron while bustling around the kitchen.  
"Thomas said they might've went missing in the snow and they may never come back!" the girl replied, her blue eyes wide and glazed with fear.  
"Fiddlesticks!" Mrs Patmore huffed. "Thomas better be careful that nothin' bad happens to him if he keeps telling you stuff like that!"

The snow kept coming down as darkness was falling over Downton Abbey. The remaining staff were slowly scattering from the dining table in the servants' hall, Daisy scurrying to and fro to collect the dishes, still looking very pale and unhappy. William followed her around quite awkwardly, trying to catch her attention but she barely seemed to notice him. Instead, she kept throwing glances at Thomas, who wasn't paying any attention to her in turn. The affection obviously burning on her face made a tight knot of jealousy and annoyance form in William's chest. Thomas knew all too well that Daisy was hopelessly in love with him and he'd often lead her on for fun just to torment William.  
The two footmen were quite a contrast, really: William was a lanky boy of twenty with sandy brown hair, not particularly handsome but diligent, with a kind face and likable manner. Thomas was a few years older and had been hired by Lady Cora for mainly decorative reasons. He was pale and handsome, with black hair and light green eyes and cut quite a dashing figure in the elegant footman livery. While he was nice to look at serving for the ladies and gentlemen of the house, the staff knew that he was to be treated with caution. He was a smug and scheming bastard, really, William thought darkly. And he certainly wasn't good enough for Daisy.  
"Don't be afraid, they'll be all here in one piece soon," William tried again with a reassuring smile and Daisy gave him a shy look that made him blush violently.  
Thomas rolled his eyes at William.  
"Oh really?" he asked in a tone that clearly suggested that he thought William was a complete bumpkin. "Have you looked out of the window today? They’re not going anywhere in this bloody weather."

Daisy's attention snapped back towards Thomas, an awestruck expression on her face. He dragged at his cigarette, lazily flipping through yesterday's newspaper (there was no newspaper today because of the weather). "Have you read this about the escaped convict? The poor devil would've been better off in prison. He probably froze to death by now." He threw the newspaper on the table. "Anyways, I wouldn't mind if the Crawleys got stuck in the snow and we could spend a free Christmas Eve for once. I'm not pining after their presence like Mr Bates would, especially not this old trout ..."

"Mr Barrow, I hope you were not about to say something completely unreasonable if you would like to keep your job!" An elderly man had appeared in the doorway, his bushy eyebrows drawn into a very severe frown, looming over the younger servants like a huge form of disapproval.  
"No, Mr Carson," Thomas replied hastily, suddenly subdued.  
"Good," Mr Carson, the butler, nodded but still looked deeply disgruntled as he left for his office.  
"I swear he's summoned whenever you say a bad word about them," Thomas said under his breath when he was sure Mr Carson was out of earshot.

* * *

It was well past the time any arrivals were expected that day, when suddenly a loud and tenacious knocking on the main door picked up.  
Mr Carson hurried out of his office, frantically looking for the two footmen. Where were these boys when you needed them? Halfway down the corridor he almost collided with Thomas who was coming down the stairs. He wasn't dressed in his proper footman livery anymore but only in dress pants and a white shirt loosely tucked into his waistband. Mr Carson stared at the young man's slightly disheveled dark hair in horror.  
"Thomas, why are you in this state of undress when his Lordship and his family could return at any minute?"  
"Because I was about to go to bed, Mr Carson. Everyone was. You can't possibly expect us to stay up all night."  
"We'll have a word about that tomorrow," the butler said with a deeply disapproving look.  
"Now tidy yourself up as good as you can, quickly!" The bell rang, several times in a row, as the two men hurried towards the entrance hall.  
"I don't think it's his Lordship, if I dare say so, Mr Carson," Thomas objected, slightly out of breath, as he simultaneously ran one hand through his hair while straightening his shirt with the other.  
"I think you might be right, Thomas. But we still have to look who it is."  
By now, the whole house seemed to be up and about again.  
"Who could that be?" Anna appeared in the doorway, a dressing gown wrapped around her and a flickering candle in hand. She was closely followed by Daisy, who was basically jumping up and down with agitation and Mrs Hughes, who threw a questioning glance at Mr Carson.  
"Daisy! Why are you still up, for heaven's sake? Go back to bed!" Mrs Patmore shouted, rushing on behind the other women, her tangerine hair mussed under a nightcap ( _this woman couldn't be quiet to save her life_ , Mr Carson thought indignantly).  
"Mrs Patmore! May I ask you to keep your voice down!" he snapped at her.  
"Should I go and open the door, Mr Carson?" Thomas stepped in, eyeing the group of women warily out of the corner of his eye.  
"Yes, Thomas, I'm afraid we will have to let whoever it is in without further preparation."  
Thomas nodded and swiftly walked over to the entrance door. When he opened it, a gust of wind and snow swept into the hall and a shiver ran through the gathered servants.

"Oh thank God!" a shape outside exclaimed as Thomas held the door open, unconcealed bafflement on his face. A most curious party of three piled inside, shaking from the cold and covered in snow. Mr Carson hastened over, Mrs Hughes close on his heels.  
"Good evening, Gentlemen... _and Lady,"_ he added, taken aback, as he saw that there was a young woman amongst them.  
"I'm Mr Carson, the Butler. May I ask who you are?"  
"Mr Carson!" Another snow-covered character stumbled through the door, out of breath.  
"Branson? What in God's name are you doing out there?" Mrs Hughes hurried to the young man's side and gently put a hand on his back, leading him away from the still open door.  
As Thomas went to close it, a thick layer of snow had already piled up on the floor, making him struggle to force it shut again.  
"Have never seen a snowstorm like that before, Ma'am," Branson panted. He was a young Irishman in his mid-twenties of medium height and athletically built, with light brown hair and a rebellious temper. He had been the chauffeur at Downton for a few months now and usually stayed at the small room above the garage. "Ran into these people on my way to the mansion. They came from the train station." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the group of strangers as a shiver shook his body. "Oh dear, we better get you warmed up. Anna!" Mrs Hughes addressed the housemaid. "Would you be so kind and prepare a hot cup of tea for Tom and our new guests?"  
"Of course, Mrs Hughes," Anna gave Tom a sympathetic smile and the group of strangers a curious glance before she hurried off to the kitchen.

The newcomers seemed the most unlikely set of people you would expect to show up at so late an hour in the middle of a snowstorm. One of them was a man of about forty, who looked way too excited considering the situation, almost as if he was extremely _happy_ to be here. Next to him was a stocky boy, roughly in his late teens, who threw around significant glances as if he could make perfect sense of the situation. The last and probably most out-of-the-way to be wandering through the countryside at night was a young woman - possibly even a Lady. She had an elegance about her that could not even be destroyed by the fact that she was soaked to the skin.  
"Mr... Carson, right?" the stocky teenager stepped forward quite energetically (Mr Carson looked horrified at this behaviour). "My name is Justus Jonas and these are my fellow passengers from the train to London, Mr Castle and Miss Bowen." He gestured to the others next to him, who nodded in turn. By the way he was speaking, he seemed to be American. "We're sorry to drop in on you so unexpectedly but I'm afraid our train got stuck in a snowdrift about a mile before Downton train station. We walked all the way here."  
Mr Carson looked suspiciously at the outstretched hand of the young man, while the gathered Downton staff quite obviously gaped at the strangers.  
"If this is supposed to be a very odd way of trying to break into this house, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed," Mr Carson said. He then turned to Branson, the chauffeur.  
"Branson, have you seen anyone else out there?"  
The young man seemed to hesitate for a split second but then shook his head. "No, Mr Carson. Not a soul to be seen in this weather."  
"I'm quite sure we could handle them, if they tried to mug us, Mr Carson," Thomas said, disdainfully looking the two men up and down.  
"You have absolutely nothing to fear from us!" the man (Mr Castle) laughed, clapping the footman on the shoulder. Thomas and Mr Carson looked equally shocked, at a loss for words. _Another American, oh God help us_ , Mr Carson thought. "What a happy coincidence we ended up here! A real English mansion! And with an actual butler," Mr Castle continued, unfazed by the look on Mr Carson's face.  
Anna returned with a tray of tea, handing one to Branson and then warily approaching the strangers.  
"We have not yet decided if we will host these people, Anna," Mr Carson said warningly but was cut short by Mrs Hughes before he could say another word.  
"Oh please, Mr Carson, you can't possibly send these people away in a snowstorm like that."  
She gave them a warm smile. "Please, come in. I'm Mrs Hughes, the housekeeper. You must be chilled to the bone after that weather. I'm sure we'll find you a place where you can warm up and recover."

It still took Mrs Hughes some explaining and efforts at persuasion but at last Mr Carson agreed grudgingly to let the three stranded train passengers move into currently unoccupied servants rooms for the night.  
"But they will leave first thing in the morning!" he announced in front of the servants before sweeping out crossly.


	2. Chapter 2

'I can tell you the sight of Mrs Patmore in her nightdress was nothing I ever wanted to see' Thomas said the next morning, as the servants gathered for breakfast.  
'Don't be mean' Anna replied, though she had to stifle a laugh.  
'Well Branson, about time you told us how you dragged up these folks' Thomas's green eyes fixated on the chauffeur while he lighted a cigarette. Branson, who sat at the far end of the table, didn't look as if he'd slept much last night and had been withdrawn into himself ever since he'd showed up this morning.  
'Not much to say, really. Their train got stuck, as I told you yesterday.'  
Thomas's eyes narrowed. 'So you ran into some strangers in a snowstorm and it didn't seem funny to you? You didn't question them or anything?'  
Branson opened his mouth to answer, a cross expression on his face, as the young woman - Miss Bowen - appeared in the door. The servants went quiet at once and all eyes turned to the unfamiliar guest.  
'Good morning' her hand twitched nervously to twist a loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. She was dressed in a casual but classy ensemble of a white pullover, black skirt and ankle boots.  
'Thank you for your kindness. I don't know what we'd have done if you hadn't provided shelter for us last night.' She smiled, nervously and somewhat absent minded. Her greenish-brown eyes wandered into emptiness for a moment, as if she'd completely forgotten about everyone in the room.  
'Would you like some breakfast?' Anna asked kindly, gesturing to the free spot next to her.  
'Thank you' Miss Bowen sat down when a troubled expression crossed her face.  
'Oh my, I haven't even introduced myself. How terribly impolite, please forgive me. My name is Aurora. Aurora Bowen.'  
God, this girl looked as if she was on the run from something, Anna thought. Branson seemed rather jittery, too... It was a most uncomfortable atmosphere for sure and Anna worried they might have caught a cold.  
'I was on the train to London with Mr Castle and the boy, Justus. We shared a compartment.' Aurora explained, gratefully accepting a cup of tea from Daisy.  
'Are you a Lady?' the kitchen maid asked admiringly. 'You are so beautiful!'  
A genuine smile appeared on Aurora's face.  
'I'm not a Lady. Just a normal girl like you. But thank you.'  
As a matter of fact, everyone seemed quite intrigued by her. She had a beauty like a winters' day, cool, pale and pristine and there was an air of aloofness surrounding her.  
'And where are your two meddlesome companions now, Miss Bowen?' Thomas asked in his typical cocky manner.  
Aurora met his eyes, unimpressed. 'They are not meddlesome, really.'  
In this very moment, someone noisily rumbled down the stairs and an instant later the teenage boy appeared.  
'Speak of the devil...' Thomas muttered under his breath.  
'Oh everyone is up so early!' the boy exclaimed. He looked as sleep-deprived as Branson but very determined nonetheless.  
'I hope you slept well' Anna said.  
'Well, I did. But not much.'  
Anna looked bewildered, not knowing what to make of that answer.  
'I've had more important things to worry about than to catch up on some sleep.'  
'And what could that possibly be?' Thomas asked with mock curiosity.  
'A case... or rather an unsolved mystery.' Justus pulled a card out of the inside pocket of his jacket. 'May I give you my card?'  
He held the card out to Thomas who stared at it for a split second before laughing out incredulously.  
'What kind of weirdo are you? You've got to look at this' he handed the card to Anna.  
'What does it say?' Daisy asked anxiously.  
'Um... It says "The three detectives. We take on every case. First detective Justus Jonas ('That's me' the boy interjected), second detective Peter Shaw, research and archive Bob Andrews."' Anna read aloud, baffled.  
'Aren't you a little young to be a detective?' she asked, not unkind.  
'I can assure you that my age in no way contradicts my proficiencies.'  
'And where are those other two buffoons mentioned on your little card? Still lurking outside in the snowstorm?' Thomas asked, incredulity and amusement mingled on his face.  
'I was supposed to meet my colleagues in London' Justus said unperturbed.  
'And you're investigating what exactly?'  
'You don't have to worry about that. It's got nothing to do with you. And of course I promised my client to maintain silence on it.'

_____________

The servants spent the day going about their usual duties, as Mr Carson wouldn't allow any slackening just because of the absence of their master's family. Daisy cleaned out the fireplaces, Anna checked the bedrooms, Thomas and William polished the candlesticks and silver cutlery and Mrs Patmore bustled about the kitchen, preparing dinner. But still, a tense mood had settled over Downton. Overnight it had snowed on and the snowdrifts had reached alarming heights. There hasn't even been proper daylight and it's been hard to keep track of what time of the day it was. Tom Branson aimlessly wandered around the corridors, feeling useless and an uneasy feeling growing in his chest. He decided to go looking for Mrs Hughes to ask whether he could somehow make himself useful when he came across Miss Bowen. She stared hard out of the window, as if trying to make out something outside in the snow flurries. She flinched when she noticed him.  
'Oh, it's you! I didn't hear you come.'  
'I'm sorry, I didn't want to startle you.'  
'I guess we're all a little jumpy after what happened. Do you think it's still... out there?' Her eyes grew big and she suddenly looked very young and fragile.  
Tom remained silent for a moment. 'As long as we're at Downton, we're safe.'

'What does that mean "As long as we're at Downton, we're safe"?' Mrs Patmore asked while carrying a pot of soup out of the kitchen.  
'I don't know. It's what Branson said. I was just checking the fireplace in the library when I heard him talk to that Miss Bowen' Thomas said lazily, though Anna thought that he wasn't as unconcerned as he pretended to be. They had come to Downton around the same time and she knew him quite well by now. Or at least she used to. Since they were of the same age they had formed a kind of friendship of convenience back in the day. While Anna used to tone down Thomas's arrogant and sometimes mean side, he made her laugh when she was homesick and dared her to come out of her shell. Their relationship cooled down though when Thomas started to hang out with Lady Grantham's maid Miss O'Brien. They'd bonded over their shared cigarette breaks and cut themselves off from everyone else soon. There had always been something troubled about Thomas but O'Brien's influence ultimately seemed to have him caught in a downward spiral of no good.  
'They're withholding something, that's as clear as daylight' Thomas went on, snapping Anna out of her thoughts. The conversation was put to a stop by the remaining servants filing into the room. Mr Carson strode in and everyone stood up at once at his arrival, as it was proper when the butler entered the servants' room. Addressing the two footmen, Mr Carson said 'Thomas, William, go and call our... guests. We should ask them if they want to join us.'  
'Very good, Mr Carson.' 


	3. Chapter 3

Interlude ~ Justus's notebook  
Even though it had looked dark and unwelcoming at night, Downton is an oasis. It's dry and warm and the rooms they've given us are simple but comfortable. We got up for breakfast but slept away almost the whole day afterwards and only woke up again in time for dinner. On this occasion I hope I'll get a better idea of the people here. The landscape is beautiful but also quite isolated. The closest neighbours live in the village several kilometers away. I'm hoping to be able to talk to Tom Branson in private after dinner but now I have to go, the footman - William - is already waiting for us.

While William led Mr Castle and Justus down to the servants' hall Thomas went to go looking for the girl. When he reached the door to the women's corridor, he halted hesitantly. Men weren't allowed to enter (as women weren't allowed to enter the men's in turn). After a moment of consideration, he knocked. The door had a window in it so you could see the corridor.  
'Miss Bowen, are you there?'  
It was really beneath his dignity to serve people that were probably no more high-born than he was. When there was no answer, Thomas looked around, exasperated. His eyes met a small piece of paper on the floor. As he picked it up, he saw that it was a quite battered quote cut out of a newspaper or magazine.  
'Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.' he read quietly. He stared at the words, absentminded, and startled at the sound of footsteps approaching. When he looked up Miss Bowen was opening the door.  
'Oh, you found it! I was worried I lost it somewhere outside in the snow' she gestured at the slip of paper in Thomas's hand.  
'Oh this is yours. I wondered who it belonged to' he handed it back to her and she put it away into the pocket of her skirt, giving him a relieved smile.  
'It's a bit of a mojo. Ridiculous, I know, but I still would've been bummed if I lost it. I guess I owe you something, now.'  
He shifted awkwardly, suddenly a bit flustered.  
'Well, I came to inform you that dinner is ready. If you're hungry.'  
'I'm starving, actually' she fell into step beside him.  
'What does it mean, your note?' Thomas asked after a moment of silence.  
She shrugged. 'Just a reminder, I guess. That being an ass is a choice. I sometimes do need to be reminded of it.'  
Thomas raised an eyebrow at her, taken aback.  
'I'm sorry' she laughed. 'I shocked you with my casual way of talking.'  
'Surprised, rather' he chuckled.  
They walked on and Aurora thought their conversation had tailed off when he said 'I've made the experience that people aren't very kind though. So why be kind in turn? It would just make you weak and a fool.'

_____________

Since there were no Lord or Ladys to attend on, the servants and their guests remained seated in the servants' hall after dinner, chatting and dawdling away. Mrs Patmore made tea and brought out biscuits and for once everyone was able to relax a bit.  
'So what brings you to London, Mr Castle?' Mrs Hughes asked, eagerly trying to be cheerful and making up for the dark glances of Mr Carson.  
'Oh, I'm a writer' Mr Castle replied cheerily. 'I'm just doing a bit of research. I'm from New York, actually. This is my first time in England.'  
'How exciting! I've always wanted to go to America! Do you write for a newspaper?' Anna leapt to Mrs Hughes's support.  
'I do write novels. Crime, thrillers, these kinds of stuff.'  
'Anything we might've heard of?' Thomas asked, though the look on his face clearly suggested that he doubted knowing any of Castle's works.  
'Well, Storm's Last Stand, Gathering Storm...'  
'Wait... Derrick Storm?' Thomas stuttered. 'You're Richard Castle?'  
'Exactly that guy' Castle beamed, obviously enjoying the footman's bafflement.  
'I love these books!' Mrs Patmore exclaimed.  
'Oh, so do I!' Mrs Hughes agreed, suddenly substantially more interested in their guest.  
Mr Carson shot her an alarmed glance.  
'We're not talking about these American dime novels everyone is so ridiculously infatuated with, aren't we?' He gave Mr Castle a look as if he blamed the decay of customs solely on him.  
'Even Lady Mary enjoyed them!' Anna said cheerfully. 'She asked me just last week to borrow Gathering Storm from the servants' library to take it with her to Scotland.' Mr Carson grabbed hold of a chairback for support, horrified.  
'I'm so sorry Mr Castle, I didn't recognize you' Thomas said. He looked sincerely awed and quite embarrassed.  
'No worries, lad' Castle smiled and gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder.  
'I've come to England to do some research for a new novel and I'm delighted to be able to chat to all of you. You're so very British! I've already taken so many notes today!'  
'What is your new book about, Mr Castle?' Anna asked curiously.  
'Well, it's a kind of ghost story.'  
A sudden loud clatter made them startle. Tom Branson had dropped his cutlery and stared at Mr Castle with red-rimmed eyes.  
'Tom! What's the matter? Aren't you feeling well?' Anna anxiously hurried to his side, gently putting a hand on his back.  
'Oh don't tell me you're afraid of ghost stories, Branson' Thomas laughed.  
'It's nothing' Branson mumbled, obviously embarrassed by everyone's sudden attention. 'Really' he added, as Anna still looked worried.  
'Tell us more about your book then, Mr Castle' Thomas prompted eagerly.  
Mr Castle leaned forward with a somehow roguish look in his eyes, as if he couldn't wait to scare everyone to death with his story.  
'If the conversation descends to the level of telling scary stories, I will excuse myself now and go to bed' Mr Carson said.  
'You're right, it's time for me to go to bed now as well' Mrs Hughes agreed and Mr Carson looked very relieved that she didn't want to join the ghost story telling.  
'I'm sure you won't mind if the young people stay up a bit longer and enjoy themselves, Mr Carson?' she added with a significant undertone.  
He grumbled something under his breath but ultimately nodded his head.  
'I told you she's wearing the breeches in the relationship', Thomas whispered to Anna, making her snort into her tea with laughter.  
After Carson and Mrs Hughes had left, Mr Castle returned to the plot of his book, the servants hanging on his every word.  
'So there is a manor - much like this one - miles from anywhere. It's inhabited by a family and their servants but the people in the village are afraid of it. It once belonged to a young Lord. He did not have a knack for running the estate and was already heavily indebted in his young years. Trying to save the mansion, he got tangled up in deeds of darkness - sorcery, black magic, that sort of thing. Then one day he mysteriously disappeared. He didn't show up in the village anymore - and nowhere else either. When people from the village came to look for him weeks later, they found the house empty. The years passed and he fell into oblivion and a new family moved into the mansion. But then one night a stranger - a travelling writer - appears to seek refuge for the night. He'd had a most creepy encounter in the fog: a ghostly figure hovering over the damp meadows, screaming and howling terribly.'  
In this very moment, a bloodcurdling bang made everyone jump in their seats. Daisy gave a high-pitched scream, digging her fingers into William's arm. It took a few heartbeats for everyone to regain their composure.  
'That came from the window!' Thomas said, climbing onto a chair to inspect it. 'Bloody dark outside... You can barely see anything.'  
'Be careful!' Daisy whimpered.  
The rattling picked up again.  
'Calm down, it's just the shutter' Thomas said, relieved.  
'It's become quite windy outside. It must've come loose and banged against the window.'  
'Oh, thank God!' Mrs Patmore exclaimed. 'I thought your phantom had come to get us, Mr Castle!'  
Everyone laughed, though some people still looked quite shaky.  
'Would anyone like some more tea?' Mrs Patmore offered. 'I'm scared stiff! A warm cup of tea will help us calm down.'  
She bustled off to the kitchen, returning with a teapot a few minutes later.  
Daisy scurried around the table, pouring steaming tea into cups. When she was finished, she sat down next to Thomas, basically drooling over him while William looked as if he'd swallowed something sour.  
'You're so brave!' Daisy sighed, moving closer to Thomas's side. 'You weren't afraid one bit!'  
Thomas gave her an annoyed glance.  
'Why would I be afraid of a loose shutter?' he retorted coldly.  
'I wasn't afraid either!' William chimed in in another desperate attempt to get Daisy's attention.  
Aurora had been studying this curious threesome since dinner and it was quite amusing to watch, though she was starting to feel sorry for poor William. Watching Thomas out of the corner of her eye, she still pondered over what had caused his strange reaction earlier. He was slouching in his chair in a way that Mr Carson wouldn't have approved of and that made Daisy squirm in her seat. With his livery jacket taken off and his suspenders loosely hanging down from his hips, he really looked quite scandalous. As he tucked a cigarette behind his ear and brushed a strand of black hair from his forehead, a slight flutter ran through Aurora's chest and while she still tried to make sense of this sudden feeling his eyes met hers, catching her staring at him. He raised an eyebrow at her, a smug smile playing around his lips. She quickly averted her eyes, embarrassed.  
'Would you like another biscuit?' Daisy asked Thomas, oblivious of how he'd given her the cold shoulder the whole evening. He exhaled, exasperated.  
'Stop bugging him, Daisy!' Mrs Patmore sighed.  
'He's already put on a little weight lately.'  
Thomas's head snapped to Mrs Patmore. He looked murderous, to say the least.  
'What?' he snapped.  
Mrs Patmore looked startled. 'I didn't mean to offend you.'  
'Well, good night then' Thomas hissed, leaping to his feet. He left, seething, and Daisy stared at the baffled Mrs Patmore in accusation.  
'Why did you say that?' the girl demanded angrily. 'You ruined everything!'  
'Daisy, I didn't think he'd take offence at it' Mrs Patmore said apologetically ('Then you don't know him very well' Anna said, stifling a laugh).  
'Yeah, that's cause you never think before you speak!' Daisy snarled.  
'Now don't blame me!' Mrs Patmore said indignantly. 'He's not the right guy for you anyways, Daisy. He's a lost soul, that's what Thomas is.'  
'There's always something going on here, that's for sure!' Mr Castle said, scribbling away in his notebook.


	4. Chapter 4

As their party disbanded for the night shortly after, Aurora watched for an opportunity to talk to Anna before she went to bed.  
'Anna! Can I ask you something?'  
'Of course.'  
'What did Mrs Patmore mean when she said Thomas is a lost soul?'  
Anna hesitated for a second, twisting her hands in her apron.  
'I can't really tell you, I'm afraid.' She sighed.  
'Look... he can be quite mean if he wants to and after tonight he'll be in a narky mood. Just leave him alone, okay?'  
With an apologetic smile she wished Aurora a good night and disappeared up the stairs.  
As it turned out, steering clear of Thomas wasn't as easy as Anna might've thought. He stood at the rail of the gallery when Aurora climbed the stairs, gloomily staring down into the hall. It was very unlikely she could pass him unnoticed so instead she lingered in the darkness of the stairway, unsure of what to do. He still looked quite pissed off. Aurora didn't dare to think how embarrassing it would be if he caught her staring at him once again, lurking in the dark like a complete weirdo.  
'Good night' she tried to sound carefree as she stepped onto the gallery.  
'What are you doing here?' he asked, though he didn't seem angry.  
'Where's everyone else? I'm sure they were having a great time making me look stupid' he said bitterly.  
Aurora stepped next to him, leaning against the rail. 'I'm sure Mrs Patmore meant no harm. And don't worry, Daisy's still besotted with you.'  
'Well, thank God' he gave her a faint smile.  
They stood next to each other in silence for a moment.  
'I guess I'm just not very likable to people here.' He looked down, crestfallen.   
Aurora gave him a surprised look. 'Would you like to be?'  
He shrugged. 'Sometimes I'd like to belong. Does that sound funny?'  
'No, not at all' she gently put a hand on his arm, giving him a comforting squeeze, pondering whether or not it was wise what she was about to say.  
'Maybe you should try being a bit nicer to them. You've been nice to me after all.'  
'Ah yes, I forgot that the universal solution to all problems is being nice', he scoffed. 'You just don't understand. I could be the nicest damn person in the world and they'd still shun me. All my life I've been pushed around, just cause I'm different. It's easier to keep a distance.' The arrogant, cocky facade seemed to crumble away, leaving only a lonely and unhappy young man. Aurora opened her mouth to reply but he cut her short.  
'Never mind' he sighed, pushing himself away from the rail.  
'Have you seen where this fool William went? He's supposed to help me close the shutters at the ground floor before he goes to bed but he's nowhere to be seen. He probably dropped dead somewhere out of love for Daisy.'  
'I could help you' Aurora offered. She wondered what he'd been hinting at. How was he different? But the sudden change of topic made it more than clear that he didn't plan on elaborating on it.  
He seemed to ponder her suggestion for a second. 'Alright then. Follow me. But don't wander off.'  
Thomas produced a candle holder from a chest of drawers, lighting it with a match. He led the way down to the great hall, swiftly crossing to a double-winged door that he held open with a not entirely serious bow. 'The library, M'Lady.'  
Aurora halted in the doorway, suddenly feeling uneasy for wandering through someone else's private rooms. The library lay in semi-darkness, illuminated only by the alien glow of the moon reflecting off the snow outside.  
'You're not a vampire, aren't you? Or do you need an invitation to cross the threshold?' he teased.  
The library's windows seemed to gape at them like dull eyes. Pictures were suddenly rushing in on Aurora and she instinctively backed away, bumping into Thomas's chest.  
'What's the matter?' he quite skillfully spun her around, making her face him.  
'Don't you think it's about time you told me what's really going on here? What is out there that scares you so much? Branson's in on it, isn't he?'  
He blocked the doorway, tall and dark, advancing on her somewhat menacingly.  
'Is there a problem here?' Tom Branson appeared in the door behind Thomas, Mr Castle and Justus in his wake.  
'Well, if it isn't the rest of the conspirators', Thomas said, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm.  
'What the hell are you up to, Branson?' he turned on the chauffeur. 'And don't take me for an idiot! I know something is wrong with you. You look like you've seen a ghost.'  
Aurora gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes nervously twitched to and fro between Thomas and Branson. Tom Branson really looked like a shadow of his former self and Thomas was starting to worry that there really was something wrong.  
'You're right' Tom's shoulders slumped. 'I should have gone to Mr Carson right away. But I was afraid he wouldn't believe me. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes!'  
'Spill it already!' Thomas demanded, losing his patience. He might have expected this sort of absurd behaviour from William, but Branson had always seemed quite reasonable.  
Branson opened his mouth to answer, but was cut short by Aurora grabbing his arm in horror.  
'Tom! I think there was something at the window' she whispered. 'Oh my God, it's out there!'  
'What is out there?' Thomas asked urgently, his eyes nervously twitching back and forth between the window and Aurora.  
'I don't know! Something flitted past the window.'  
Mr Castle looked dumbfounded for a second, then he started to laugh. 'You people are really the most entertaining company I could have hoped for!'  
'No I've really seen something!' Aurora pleaded frantically, when a harsh rapping sound on one of the windows cut her short.  
'Have you seen this? Oh God help us!'  
'What was that?'  
'A hand... a white hand banged against the window' Thomas stuttered, his face going as white as a sheet.  
'I've seen it too!' Justus said. Though he seemed to be gobsmacked he pulled himself together quite well.  
A split second later, another harsh bang rattled the window, even more furious than before. This time they could see it abundantly clear: A hand, white as chalk, with long spidery fingers.  
'But... I've seen it too... this can't be' Mr Castle stammered.  
'It's the phantom!' Tom groaned. 'It's come through the snow!'  
Mr Castle slowly approached the window, curiously squinting at the darkness outside.  
'Are you crazy? Get away from the window!' Thomas said frantically, trying to hold Mr Castle back.  
'Oh come now, Thomas! You've read too many shockers! Somebody's out there sneaking around, playing us for a fool.'  
Castle looked around searchingly and when he discovered the door leading to the terrasse, he unflinchingly headed at it.  
'You mustn't go out there!' Tom sprinted after him. 'We have to call the police or something!'  
'I don't think the police will move out in this weather in the middle of the night just because someone knocked on the window' Justus said matter-of-factly. 'And I have to agree with Mr Castle on one thing: Whoever is out there is a human and not a ghost.'  
'Then that's settled!' Mr Castle ditched Tom, advancing on the door.  
'But a human could be much more dangerous than a non-existent ghost, Mr Castle' Justus tried to remedy the situation.  
'Well, I certainly won't just go to bed now. Aren't you curious why someone is sneaking around the house pretending to be a ghost? Don't you see the parallels to my book? We once had a killer in New York who imitated the murders of a book!'  
'Well, splendid!' Thomas laughed despite himself. 'You say that like it's a good thing.'  
'Come now, I just want to find out why someone is reenacting the plot of my book' Castle opened the door, holding his arm over his eyes to shield himself against the storm. The flame of Thomas's candle holder was extinguished by a gust of wind, leaving them in darkness.  
'Come on out! Where are you?' Mr Castle stomped out into the snow and soon could hardly be spotted anymore.  
They stared at the dark opening of the door, shivering from cold and tension. The only sound to be heard was the howling of the wind.  
'Where did he go now?' Aurora whispered, horror-stricken. Thomas and Branson exchanged a look, slowly approaching the open door.  
'Mr Castle? Are you there?' Tom shouted but his voice was almost completely drowned out by the wind.  
'Mr Castle!'  
The two young men lingered in place, uncertain what to do, when an ear-splitting shrieking disrupted the night. It seemed to double in the wind, coming from all sides at once. This was not a sound a human could make.


	5. Chapter 5

'Mr Barrow! What in God's name is this riot you're causing here in the middle of the night?' Mr Carson sweeped in, dressed in pyjamas and a dressing gown and looking furious.  
'I'm not the one you should be accusing!' Thomas hissed, offended. 'You won't believe it but I actually have no idea what is going on here! You should ask Branson!'  
Only now noticing it, Mr Carson did a double-take at the open door. 'Has someone gone out there? Mr Branson, Mr Barrow, I demand an explanation!'  
'Mr Carson, may I try and explain to you what happened?' Justus stepped forward instead, clearing his throat to give his voice a steady tone - it only worked out partly. Nevertheless, he tried to report as calmly and objectively as possible what had happened.  
'A phantom has taken Mr Castle?' Mr Carson asked in disbelief when Justus had finished his short retelling of what had happened in the last fifteen minutes.  
'I know, it sounds crazy but that's what happened!'  
'Enough!' Mr Carson sternly put a stop to Justus's explaining.  
He looked at Thomas and Branson: 'So you have seen nothing out there? Except for this... hand, of course? I'm warning you, if you don't stop these follies immediately, you will be looking for a new job!'  
'It's the truth!' Aurora leapt to their defence. 'We all heard it, didn't we? And it was the same terrible howling like yesterday in the snow!'  
'Yesterday in the snow? What's that supposed to mean?' Thomas asked, aghast.  
Aurora gave him a quick anxious glance. With a shaky breath to steady her hammering heart she began: 'As I told you before, we were on the late train to London. We didn't know each other before but happened to share a compartment. There were only a few other passengers aside from us but we were the only ones to try and penetrate through the snow to get help. Someone on the train told us we were closer to Downton Abbey than to the village and we should try our luck here. Justus took the lead, he... seemed to know the way.' She faltered, only now realizing that this didn't make sense. Tom Branson exchanged a quick glance with Justus that didn't go unnoticed by their bystanders. They looked quite caught. 'Go on. We'll talk to Mr Jonas afterwards' Mr Carson said to Aurora though his eyes were still on Branson, distrust written across his face.  
'The storm was worse than we'd expected. I only now realize how foolish it was to leave the train. The wind was howling but there was something else. I had this feeling of someone watching me from out of the trees. I didn't say anything but I was alert now. After some couple hundred meters more I was sure we were being followed by someone. Though the snow made it hard to see, I could make out a shadow moving between the trees several times. I ultimately confided my suspicion in Justus, who to my surprise had come to the same conclusion. We had been out in the cold for hours - or at least it felt like it - when a shape appeared in the flurry of snow, about twenty yards in front of us. I first thought it was Mr Castle, who had been ahead of us but this thing was white as the snow and could only be located when moving. It... seemed to hover above the ground somehow, staring at us. Then suddenly, it started screaming and laughing... it was terrible. This was like nothing I've ever heard before! It didn't sound human, for that matter. It was the same sound we heard just now. The whole encounter maybe lasted half a minute, then it was gone, swallowed up by the snow. We only ran into Mr Castle again when we reached Downton.'  
While Aurora recounted their experience, Mr Carson's gaze gradually became milder and finally there was a trace of fear in it. 'But... I refuse to believe there's a ghost out there!'  
'But we've all heard it!' Tom Branson ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, distraught.  
'We only know that Mr Castle has disappeared' Thomas objected. 'Someone... or something... has vanquished him and... My God, what if he's still out there?' His eyes widened.  
'He could lie just outside the house! Maybe he's injured!' Branson picked up on the thought. 'We have to go and look for him!'  
Mr Carson nodded to himself, taking a deep breath. 'You're right. We'll have to put everything else in the back for now. Branson, go and fetch some flashlights. Thomas, you get William. We need every capable man.'  
They hurried off without another word, leaving Mr Carson behind with Justus and Aurora.  
Branson returned carrying four clunky flashlights, Thomas a few moments later with a confused William in his wake. 'Mr Carson, Sir, what's going on?' William asked, squinting at the curious scene that presented itself to him. 'Thomas won't stop twitting me with a story about a phantom...'  
'I'm not twitting you, you stupid moron!' Thomas shouted, a hectic flush spreading on his cheeks.  
'Shut up! Both of you!' everyone halted, stunned, since it was Tom Branson who had yelled at them. 'Well, that's settled then' Mr Carson said, giving the young chauffeur an awkward pat on the shoulder.  
Tom angrily handed out the flashlights to Thomas, William and Mr Carson and the four men turned to face the door (William still seemed to have no idea what he was up to).  
'Oh please, don't go out there!' Aurora whispered.  
'You've heard it. Mr Castle might still be out there and need our help' Thomas said, giving her shoulder a quick awkward touch. They locked eyes.  
'We're all going. If we stay together closely, nothing will happen to us.'  
The six of them stepped out into the night, snow surrounding them like a wet, cold hand. It soon turned out that the torchlights didn't do much good. They just made the snow flare, blinding them. 'Shine on the ground! So we can at least see a little' Justus shouted against the storm. This way they could at least cherish the illusion to not be completely confused and disoriented. For about fifteen minutes they searched the proximity of the house but there was no trace of Castle or the phantom. Eventually they returned to the house, frightened and freezing.  
'We have to call the police!' Tom said, shaking off the snow. 'May I use your telephone, Mr Carson?'  
'Yes... of course. Go ahead.'  
Tom left at a run while the others waited for his return in maddening silence. Mr Carson paced up and down, looking ten years older. When Tom finally reappeared, the disheartened look on his face spoke volumes. 'The line's gone dead' he panted. 'Must be the weather.'  
'Then I see no other possibility than to wait for the morning and send someone to the village' Mr Carson said, resigned. 'Go to bed now everyone. There's nothing we can do right now.'  
None of them would sleep a wink that night.


	6. Chapter 6

Aurora climbed the stairs in a haze. She couldn't stop thinking about Mr Castle. He was alone out there in the snow somewhere, if he was alive at all anymore. No one had dared to say it but she was sure that everyone had already thought of the worst. Thomas waited for her at the flight of stairs where the men's and women's corridors branched off, pacing back and forth. He was nervously smoking a cigarette, concern written all over his face. 'You better watch out that you don't catch a cold', he said, halting in his step. 'Being out in the snow and soaked to the skin two days in a row and all...'  
'Yes' she replied, barely managing to raise enough strength to say anything. Even though she had almost slept the whole day, she felt infinitely tired. A violent shiver ran through her body and before she even knew what happened to her she was crying into his chest, shaking with silent sobs. She didn't know how long they stood there like this but she felt his hand gently stroking her back and she just wanted to stay like this and not have to think about the horrors lurking in the snow outside for one more moment. After a while she slightly drew away to look up at him. His hair was still damp and dark shadows of exhaustion were showing around his eyes. It was well past midnight by now.  
'You look awful' he said with a little smile. 'Thanks', she had to laugh, though her breath was still shaky from crying. He hesitated for a second but then gently pulled her closer. She could feel his heartbeat quicken in unison with her racing pulse as her hands gingerly skimmed his hips and wandered up his sides. His lips brushed over the sensitive skin of her neck, up to her jawline, their heated cheeks touching, as a pointed harrumph made them draw apart, thunderstruck.  
'Mr Carson' Thomas averted his gaze, his thoughts racing. This could be the last straw Carson had been looking for to finally get him fired.  
'Well, Mr Barrow, I will overlook this for once. We're all reeling from today's events, I suppose. And to be honest, I'm glad that you've abandoned your...' Mr Carson awkwardly hesitated for a moment '... old habits.'  
Thomas stiffened. There was a very odd look on his face. 'Thank you, Mr Carson.'  
When Carson was gone, Aurora gave him a questioning look. She reached for his arm but he flinched back from her.  
'We should go to bed now' he said in a dull tone. 'Good night, Miss Bowen.'  
'Thomas, what's wrong?'  
'That's none of your business' he snapped angrily, though he seemed furious about himself rather than her.  
'Do you ever talk to someone about... whatever it is that's tormenting you? You don't have to sort everything out for yourself, you know.'  
Thomas stared at her. Oh, she almost had him.  
'You don't understand' he objected weakly. 'You would be repulsed and shocked.'  
'Look' she gently took his hand. 'When all this is over, I will go back to London and we will probably never see each other again. I will keep your secret, I promise.'  
He sighed, giving in. 'All right then. But not here.'

Aurora awkwardly waited while Thomas rummaged through his chest of drawers. He handed her one of his pullovers she could wear instead of her own damp one and they changed facing away from each other, flustered.   
Thomas's room was similar to the one Aurora had spent last night in. The furniture was simple but servants didn't have much free time to spend up here anyways. A few books lay around but other than that there were no personal items apparently.  
They sat down on the bed next to each other and he took her hand, absentmindedly brushing his thumb over the back of her hand.  
'A couple of years ago Lord Grantham took some of us servants to London for the summer season because it was Lady Edith's introduction at court. I had only just turned twenty and was fairly new to Lord Grantham's service. We met all kinds of people and servants from other houses, while working at soirees and dinners and such. They even had the Prince of Wales over several times and he'd bring his valet, Richard Ellis, when he stayed overnight. I would sometimes help Richard with preparations and all. He was a good friend to me at that time.'  
Thomas let go of her hand and slightly moved away from her.  
'See... I was in love with him' he said desperately. 'Of course I couldn't let anyone notice, least of all him. I couldn't think straight whenever we were together and I tried to make it go away but it didn't work. Then one evening when we had a free night, us younger servants went out to a pub together. Sometime later in the evening he came over and asked if I wanted to join him and his mates, who wanted to move on to a sort of jazz club. I was pretty drunk already and I agreed. I don't even remember where we went but it was some back alley. We entered a crowded, smoky basement bar and I didn't even realize at once that there were only men there. I couldn't believe it. Until then I didn't even know this kind of establishment existed let alone been to one. There was dancing and music and... well... making out.'  
He paused, breathing shakily.  
'Someone called the police on us. They appeared maybe half an hour after we got there. Chaos broke out and I couldn't find Richard anywhere. In the turmoil I took a blow to the head that knocked me out. When I came around again I was outside somewhere in an alleyway and Richard was there too. By showing them his card, being a servant to the Prince of Wales and all, he had convinced the policemen that we'd only been there to play a prank on the gays and they let us go.'  
Silent tears were running down Thomas's face and he furiously dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve.  
'You know, nothing happened, really. It was just a few moments of kissing and dancing. But people are talking and you have no privacy in a house like this. Maybe someone had seen us. I don't know. Anyways, I had a tattered reputation now and no girl - or guy, for that matter - wanted to get too close to me anymore.'  
He snivelled, looking at her with red-rimmed eyes.  
'It's not that I don't like girls, you know? I really wanted you to like me and I'm sorry I have burdened you with all this now. I don't blame you if you're appalled.'  
Aurora stared at him with slightly parted lips, trying to sort her spinning thoughts. She thought of his lips on her neck and was relieved to find that what she'd just learned didn't change her feelings about it. Gently stroking his face she said: 'I would never be appalled of you. Richard seems to be a good man who really cared for you. You're lucky. Not everyone gets that in their lives.'

They lay on Thomas's bed, Aurora's head resting on his chest, his arm loosely around her waist and she listened to his breathing slowly flattening as he dozed off. Propping herself up on one arm she watched him sleep for a while. He seemed unable to find ease, even now. His eyelids fluttered restlessly and she wondered where he was now. She gently ran her fingers through his black hair in a slow and soothing motion, studying his face. It was absurd and most indecent for a young unmarried woman to sleep next to a man like this but nothing had happened between them, after all. She was suddenly painfully aware of his snugly fitting sweatshirt. He had the slim and elegant body type that was common and asked for in young footmen. All lean muscles and narrow hips - but also a little softness, previously concealed by his livery but now outlined against the close-fitting shirt. She itched to run her fingers over the soft little swell of his lower belly but she didn't dare touch him and was embarrassed by her own thoughts. Her face heated shamefully and she slumped back down with a fluttering heart. For some time she lay there, flustered and ashamed until eventually she drifted off to an uneasy sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Thomas felt like he'd fallen asleep just a few seconds ago when a commotion on the corridor outside jerked him awake again. He groaned, forcing his eyes open. Aurora stirred next to him and a warm feeling of happiness spread in his chest despite everything. He carefully pulled out his arm from underneath her and she groggily blinked at him. 'What is it?'  
'I don't know' he whispered, lighting a candle holder. 'Stay here.'  
Outside his door, the entire servantry stood around Anna, who was crying into Mrs Hughes's dressing gown in a state of complete agitation.  
'Mr Carson, what's happened?' Thomas asked, becoming suddenly wide awake.  
'Anna went down to the kitchen to brew some tea since she couldn't sleep' Mrs Hughes answered in Mr Carson's place. 'On the stairwell she ran into a man skulking in the dark. He took flight but might still be somewhere in the house.'  
The men exchanged quick glances.  
'But you're sure it was a man and not... something else?'  
'Mr Carson, what is going on here?' Mrs Hughes demanded, losing her patience. 'There's something you're not telling me!'  
'Very well, you're right Mrs Hughes' Mr Carson acknowledged his defeat. 'I suggest we all gather in the drawing room. It's safer if we stay together from now on. And there are some things that need to be sorted out anyway that everyone here should hear.'

The drawing room was a lush area with plushy sofas and an ornate fireplace. Several paintings adorned the walls and a magnificent chandelier hung from the stucco-decorated ceiling.  
'May I despite everything remind you not to touch anything!' Mr Carson urged them nervously. 'And William, would you please build a fire.'  
'Yes, Mr Carson' the young footman got to work at once, quickly getting the fireplace going.  
'Well, what's all this about then?' Mrs Hughes asked worriedly.  
Tom Branson stepped forward, looking to Mr Carson. 'I should tell them. I think I owe you all a few explanations.'  
'I agree, Mr Branson' Carson said, eyeing Tom harshly.

Tom Branson's story  
It was two weeks ago. I drove Lady Sybil to the train station for she wanted to visit her aunt Rosamund in London over the weekend. As it was already getting dark I went to the pub for dinner. When I left a heavy fog had built outside. I had to drive slower than usual. You could barely see ten meters and the road was slippery with glaze. Then suddenly a shape appeared in front of me in the middle of the road. I could only just brake in time. I was shocked, obviously, but there was no one there - at least not at first glance. Something white was hovering in the fog. It was staring at me with eyes as black as charcoal. I was frozen in shock for I was looking at a ghost, something I just didn't want to believe. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it vanished in the fog. When I arrived back at Downton I was crazed with fright but I didn't dare to tell anyone what I had seen. I was still new in the service of Lord Grantham and I didn't want to look like a freak. The following week I had the same encounter again two times. I just couldn't take it anymore and on my free day I drove to York to go looking for help. In a display window, I saw an advertisement of a detective agency. It said they were specialized in unusual occurrences and supposedly supernatural events. I telegraphed them, asking them to come as quickly as possible. That's how I came into contact with Justus and his colleagues. They answered me immediately, promising to take on my case and come to Downton to investigate the 'fog phantom'. I planned on hiding them in my room over the garage so no one would overhear us. The day of the snowstorm I was supposed to pick Justus up from the train station but the weather interfered with our plans. I couldn't even get the car out of the garage and there was no chance to drive anywhere. I had sent Justus a card of the estates to be sure but I didn't know if he would make it here in that storm. When I was about to quit, I saw someone wandering through the snow - Justus, Mr Castle and Miss Bowen.

'That's exactly how it happened' Justus agreed when Tom finished his story. 'I hope you will not hold it against him.' He skillfully took over then, filling in the remaining servants on the previous events of the night. When he got to the point of Mr Castle's disappearance, Daisy was sobbing and Mrs Patmore clapped a hand over her mouth in shock.  
'Oh God help us' Mrs Hughes whispered, distraught.  
Justus on the other hand seemed to pick up pace now.  
'Actually, I'm very glad Tom contacted me. I do not believe in the existence of ghosts and if you allow it, I will leave first thing in the morning.'  
'Leave?' Mr Carson asked blankly. 'Where to?'  
'Oh' Justus laughed. 'Searching for the phantom of course!'  
'Are you crazy?' Thomas huffed. 'What if it takes you as well?'  
'I can take care of myself' Justus replied and the two eyed each other quite unfriendly for a moment.  
'Well I will not hold you back' Thomas snapped. 'I for my part do not have a death wish though.'  
'I will come with you' Tom Branson said, giving Justus a nod and Thomas a defiant glance.


	8. Chapter 8

The remaining hours till dawn went by agonizingly slow. Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes agreed that they would send William and Thomas to the village first thing in the morning to call the police. Justus tried to keep them back from getting the police involved before he had a chance to solve the mystery by himself but Mr Carson refused and stuck to his plan. Neither could they dissuade Justus and Tom from their plan to go and search the phantom, though. The snow had subsided by now and when the first grey of dawn fell into the room the four young men headed out, William and Thomas in the direction of the village, Tom and Justus towards the countryside.

The deeper Tom and Justus went into the forest, the more impassable the terrain became. The snow was almost knee-deep and progress was heavy-going. There was no hope of finding tracks from last night anymore since the wind had long blown them away. After an eternity, a square monster appeared in front of them that was neither a tree nor a phantom.  
'What's that?' Justus asked, exhausted.  
'I know this place!' Tom exclaimed. 'It's a deserted hunter's cabin. A few weeks ago Lord Grantham's dog Isis ran away and we came by here searching for her.'  
'Maybe this is what we've been searching for' Justus said, lowering his voice and slowly advancing on the cabin.  
'You mean... the phantom could be there inside?' Tom's eyes widened.  
'We'll find out soon enough.'

Waiting for the men's return was almost worse than being out in the snow herself, Aurora thought darkly. She felt so useless and restless she wanted to scream. The women sat together in the servants' hall and even though Anna and Mrs Hughes tried to keep a conversation running they were all lost in their own sorrowful thoughts.  
'Anna? Do you think you could show me Mr Castle's room?' Aurora asked, an idea suddenly crossing her mind.  
'Well, yes. But what for?'  
'I want to look for his notebook. Whoever is responsible for this spook knows the plot of Castle's still unpublished book. Maybe his notes can give us a hint.'  
Anna pondered her suggestion for a moment.  
'Alright. It can't hurt to look.'  
They climbed the stairs to the garrets and Anna nervously led the way down the men's corridor to Mr Castle's room. The writer had apparently returned to his room between dinner and his disappearance since his notebook was lying on the bed.  
'Would it be okay if I left you alone?' Anna asked, throwing nervous glances over her shoulder. 'I really shouldn't be here, if Mrs Hughes saw me...'  
'Of course, Anna. Thank you' Aurora gave her a grateful smile.  
When Anna was gone, Aurora picked up the little book, opening the first page.  
'The Fog Phantom'  
She skimmed the pages, looking for anything that might be important. It was only a draft yet. Apparently the young Lord in the book gets himself into a bad business with an infamous rogue art thief called Victor Eugenay.  
Victor Eugenay... Aurora felt like she'd heard this name somewhere only recently.  
'Well, well, caught red-handed' a voice in her back said, making her whirl around.

Tom and Justus slowly crept towards the cabin. It was a ruinous shack with a sagging roof and greying wood panels. They squinted through a small dirty window. 'There's no one inside' Tom said with a mixture of relief and disappointment. He was not keen on meeting the phantom again but he gradually lost courage that they would find anything at all.  
'We should still take a look inside' Justus said in a low voice, indicating to Tom to follow him. The door opened with a creak, revealing a small dusty space with a makeshift encampment. There was a mattress, a stack of clothes, a gas cooker and several tinned foods.  
'Well, well, there's actually someone hiding in here!' Justus said, excited.  
'You mean... the phantom?' Tom skeptically eyed the items scattered in the shack. This didn't look very supernatural but rather human.  
'The person impersonating the phantom, rather' Justus replied, starting to search systematically through the shack.  
'What's that?' he pulled a small suitcase out from behind the mattress. Crouching over the contents, the two exchanged a questioning glance.  
'This looks like tools from a restoration workshop or something' Justus said in amazement, inspecting the items.  
'Do you think that's got something to do with the phantom and Mr Castle?' Tom asked, baffled. Justus stared at the suitcase, thinking hard, when the door in their back banged open. It was the phantom, blocking the only way out. From up close and in the light of day it quickly became clear that it indeed was a man of flesh and blood covered by a white sheet.  
'Watch out, he's got a cricket bat!' Tom shouted, a second before he was knocked out by the phantom.

'Thomas, you scared the living daylights out of me!' Aurora gasped, giving his shoulder a not entirely angry push. She was too relieved to see him back unharmed.  
'I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist' he gave her a part apologetic part mischievous smile. 'But for real: What are you doing up here?'  
'Going through Mr Castle's notes. I thought I might find something that would bring light into the darkness. Have you ever heard the name...' She flicked through the pages to find the right passage. '...Victor Eugenay?'  
A pensive expression appeared on Thomas's face. 'I have, actually' he disappeared out of the door, returning with a newspaper a moment later.  
'There was an article about an escaped convict' he explained, scanning the pages. 'Ah, here it is: On Friday, Scotland Yard announced that the condemned prisoner and notorious art thief Victor Eugenay has fled imprisonment once again. The globally hunted French criminal had escaped the authorities several times over the past ten years and is wanted in Spain, France, the Netherlands and England with an arrest warrant. He's supposed to be responsible for the theft of several valuable and famous paintings such as Rembrandt's "The Night Watch" and the recent unresolved disappearance of Van Gogh's "Sunflowers" from the National Gallery in London.'  
They exchanged a glance, baffled. Handing Thomas Castle's notebook she said: 'Look, he's worked Eugenay into his book. He's the man who plunges the young Lord into debt in the beginning of the story.'  
Thomas quickly read the concerned pages, his face growing more and more incredulous. He was leafing through the pages when a disgruntled wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows. 'You've got to look at this!' he said crossly. Aurora read the passage he was indicating: 'At dinner, Mr Walker could take a better look at the other members of their strange house community. There was Carson [memo: change names later], the butler, who loomed imposingly at the head of the table, the housekeeper Mrs Hughes at his right. Next to her sat the two footmen Walker had seen earlier, one light and modest, the other dark and peacocky.' Aurora snorted. 'Well, that takes the biscuit!' Thomas said, offended. His cheeks blushed a little, which looked very cute on him. 'He works us all into his book,' Aurora said, trying hard not to smile. '"The young Lady was as pale and cool as the snow outside; she had alert eyes and exciting lips." Well, that's actually not too bad.' She gave Thomas a playful glance, making him smile. They took the notebook back down to the servants' hall and let the others in on what they'd discovered (though no one really understood how these new oddities fit in to what had happened so far). As it turned out, Thomas and William's troublesome way to the police station had only been partially successful. The snowstorm had caused chaos and the small police station was hopelessly overtasked. They said they'd call on the criminal investigation department in York but it would probably take until evening for an official to arrive in Downton.

'I'm seriously worried!' Mrs Hughes said, as there was still no trace of Tom and Justus even though they had been gone for hours now. 'If they don't return within the next hour, we have to go looking for them!'  
'Well, that's just great! I knew this was gonna happen. It was a ludicrous plan from the beginning' Thomas said. 'I suppose William and I are the winning team to go on this rescue mission?'  
'Now don't overreact, Thomas' Mr Carson said severely. 'We can't just leave them alone out there. Maybe you should show a little more empathy sometimes!'


	9. Chapter 9

Tom jerked awake in pitch-black darkness and a hot pain pierced his head. Groaning, he tried to sit up but had to detect that his hands were bound behind his back. There was a sharp pain throbbing in his temple where the phantom had hit him.  
'Tom?' That was Justus's voice. 'Are you okay?'  
'I'm okay' Tom's throat was so dry he could only croak.  
'Good to see you again, Tom! Even though I would have preferred other circumstances for our reunion!' a voice from somewhere on his left said.  
'Mr Castle! You're alive! Are you hurt?'  
'No, I'm fine. The phantom knocked me out with a cricket bat and when I woke up I found myself here.'  
'Same happened to us' Tom replied, struggling against the bonds around his wrists.  
'But where are we? And where's the phantom?'  
'He's not a phantom' Mr Castle said. 'His name is Victor Eugenay!'  
'That's right' a door swung open and a gas lamp was lit, flooding the room with light. Tom squinted at the man standing in the doorway, trying to blink away the white spots in his vision. The stranger was an elegant, middle-aged man in an expensive looking grey suit.  
'You have to forgive me, Tom. I'm afraid I've caused you a great deal of distress lately' the man said in a French accent. He had a smooth voice and sounded amused rather than angry.  
'Who are you?' Tom stammered, uncomprehending.  
'The phantom, if you like' the man said with a smile. 'But as Mr Castle has already stated, my real name is Victor Eugenay.'  
'I think I understand what's going on now! You know each other, right?' Justus said, addressing Castle and Eugenay.  
'You're right' Castle admitted with slumped shoulders. 'I'm afraid I called all this on you.'  
'You inspired me, rather' Victor Eugenay laughed. 'I'm curious, Justus, how much did you figure out?'  
Justus defiantly stared at Eugenay, taking a deep breath: 'On the train, Mr Castle had told Miss Bowen and me about his new book. I didn't give it much thought but then we had almost the exact same encounter as in the story. I don't believe in coincidences and so when we arrived at Downton Abbey I sneaked into Mr Castle's room while he was asleep to search for his notebook. When I saw that he'd based a character in his book off of you, Mr Eugenay, I rightly assumed that the two of you met each other before. I've heard of you, obviously, since you were suspected to be responsible for the recent theft of Van Gogh's "Sunflowers". What's preoccupied me the most in this whole story was which motive someone could have to fake a ghost haunting the people at Downton. I came to the conclusion that someone wanted the house empty. And when I saw the Della Francesca painting in the stairway I was sure to have discovered the reason why someone would want that. You knew the plot of Castle's book as well, didn't you?'  
Victor Eugenay clapped his hands in admiration. 'I'm bound to say, you're a very good detective, Justus.' He lit a cigarette, pacing up and down before them.  
'You're right, I met Mr Castle a few weeks ago at a dinner. My coup of stealing the Van Gogh was the number one discussion topic. I was there under a false identity, of course but I happened to talk to Mr Castle who told me he wanted to base a character in his new book off of me (though at this point he didn't know he was talking to the real Victor Eugenay). I was very interested, obviously. When he told me the plot, a brilliant idea came to me. The Della Francesca painting at Downton Abbey had already attracted my attention some time ago but there had not been a good opportunity for me to strike yet. I made a plan to bring Mr Castle's phantom to life to scare the few remaining people out of Downton while the family was away. Unfortunately, my plan was temporarily crossed by my arrestment in York but a quite generous bribery set me at liberty again quickly.'  
'But... why are you telling us all of this?' Tom's head was spinning from all the information.  
Eugenay shrugged. 'I'm afraid I will have to abandon my plan. At least for now. You proved more resistant than I expected. But it's a game and I can always appreciate a good move.'  
He ground out his cigarette on the wall, suddenly alert. Muffled voices could be heard, drawing near.  
'What is this place?' That was William. 'You can barely see the hand in front of your face.'  
'Quiet now! There's light ahead' Thomas's voice replied. Their footsteps grew louder and a moment later Thomas appeared in the doorway, facing Eugenay. The footman's eyes twitched from the unknown man to the captives on the floor, panic spreading across his face.  
'Don't move!' he pointed a hunting gun at Eugenay while William stared at the scene in shock. Eugenay gave the rifle an unimpressed look, smiling.  
'Surely you don't want to do anything you'll regret later, lad?' He sighed, drawing a revolver from the inside pocket of his dress jacket. 'I hate weapons. They're so bold. I prefer a more subtle style. I don't use them if I can help it.' He pointed the gun at Thomas. 'Wouldn't it be better for all of us if you just let me go? After all, no crime has happened.'  
'Do what he says, Thomas!' Justus said urgently. 'He's not a killer.'  
Thomas stared at Eugenay for another moment but eventually lowered the gun. Eugenay followed suit, giving a little mock bow.  
'Now, if you'll excuse me. I hope this wasn't our last meeting.'  
He swiftly crossed the room and then he was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

'Who was that? What happened?' Thomas asked, untying Tom Branson's hands while William freed Justus and Mr Castle. 'And why is Castle here?'  
Tom pressed the heels of his hands against his forehead, trying to sort his spinning thoughts.  
'That was Victor Eugenay' he groaned.  
'Victor Eugenay?' Thomas gave him a blank look. 'The art thief?'  
Branson nodded, too exhausted for an explanation.  
'Where are we? How did you find us?' he asked weakly, supporting himself against the footman's shoulder.  
'Some sort of tunnel, I guess' Thomas panted, struggling to keep Branson upright.  
'We followed your footsteps to a hunting shack where we found the phantom's disguise. There was an open hatch in the floor leading down to this tunnel. I wonder where it leads to.'  
'I think this question I can answer' Justus said, massaging his sore wrists. 'I bet my honor as a detective that the tunnel leads to Downton. This must be how Eugenay got in when he got caught by Anna!'  
Justus was right. They followed the tunnel in the opposite direction until they reached a ladder leading to another hatch.  
'This is incredible!' Thomas said, looking around in astonishment. 'We're in the pantry. I bet not even Lord Grantham knows about this passage. It must be from ages ago! Eugenay must've been quite pleased to discover that his hideout was directly linked to Downton.'  
They climbed the stairs, dirty and exhausted and when Mr Castle stumbled into the entrance hall he found himself facing a middle-aged man wearing an evening attire.  
'Good heavens!' Castle startled. 'Who are you?'  
The man stared at him, a somewhat stern but mostly puzzled expression on his face. 'I could ask you you the same thing. What are you doing in my house?'  
'Wait...your house?' realization was dawning on Castle. 'You're Lord Grantham!'  
'M'Lord!' Thomas hurried in, giving Castle a horrified glance. 'I hope this man didn't bother you?'  
Lord Grantham did a double-take at his first footman. The young man was dishevelled and dirty-faced and covered in spiderwebs and dust.  
'Barrow, what on earth happened to you? And why are you carrying a gun?'  
The poor boy seemed completely befuddled, opening and closing his mouth at a loss for words.  
'Ah, Carson!' Lord Grantham called out, relieved, when he saw the butler. 'Could you tell me what is going on here?'

With united forces the servants managed to calm Lord and Lady Grantham down and assure them that everything was in best order and prepared for Christmas. It had been a tough job to convince Mr Carson not to tell Lord Grantham the whole truth but in the end he agreed that the events of the past few days would only cast a bad light at Downton and the family and therefore were better left unsaid. Instead, they told them a slightly altered version of the truth, where the train got stuck but no phantom was involved. Lord Grantham was a reputable man and he agreed to let the stranded train passengers stay one more night.

The next morning

Early the next morning, Aurora carried her small suitcase down the stairs, while the servants were already in a mad rush of Christmas preparations. The house was buzzing with activity and for the first time she could truly appreciate how beautiful Downton was, with the Christmas decorations in the great hall and the rolling hills surrounding it covered in snow. She quickly ran down to the kitchen to make her farewells to Daisy and Mrs Patmore and reminded Anna again to wish everyone a happy Christmas from her and tell Mr Carson how grateful she was.  
'I know' Anna laughed. 'And now hurry before you miss your carriage!' She gave her a quick hug. 'I have to carry on now. All the best, Aurora!'  
In the great hall, Thomas was waiting at the door. A terrible melancholy spread in her chest. She hated goodbyes.  
'Merry Christmas, Aurora' he said, holding the door open for her. She swallowed, trying to give him the most genuine smile she could manage. 'Merry Christmas, Thomas.'  
A carriage was waiting for them outside to bring them to the train station and Mr Castle and Justus were just loading up their luggage. Thomas skillfully took the suitcase out of Aurora's hand, carrying it over to the carriage and stowing it away.  
'Then all we have left is to say goodbye, I guess' he hesitated for a second but then bowed down to gingerly kiss her on the cheek.  
'Are you ready, Lady?' the coachman called to them.  
'I'm coming in a minute!' Aurora replied. She turned back to Thomas, hastily pulling a pen and slip of paper out of her pocket. 'One more thing...' she said, writing on the back of the paper. 'I thought, maybe we could write each other, sometimes? Only if you want to, of course. This is my address in London.' She handed him the note, self-conscious.  
He smiled. 'I would love that. Truly. But isn't it bad luck to give away your mojo?' He turned the familiar note, reading the quote on the back.  
'Maybe you can give it back to me one day. Deal?'  
'Deal' he gently lifted her chin and kissed her like no one had ever kissed her before.

'And then they kissed, all romantic, in the snow and all' Daisy said thoughtfully, while taking out mince pies from the oven. 'I saw them through the window.' Mrs Patmore gave her an uneasy glance. It wasn't like Daisy to take heartbreak lightly.  
'And you're not sad?' she asked carefully.  
'I don't know. At first, I was really sad but when I saw them like that I thought that they make such a good couple. Her all beautiful and Thomas all handsome, you know? It kind of made me realize that he's not the right guy for me. Actually, he was always pretty unkind to me, too.'  
'Well... I mean....' Mrs Patmore stuttered, dumbfounded.  
They worked in silence for a while when Daisy said: 'William's really nice though. And he's quite good looking as well, isn't he?'

THE END


End file.
